Of Stars and Spies and Birthday Wishes
by brickroad16
Summary: Chuck and Sarah go to the movies, and end up having a real conversation.
1. Birthdays

Title: Of Stars and Spies and Birthday Wishes

Summary: Chuck and Sarah go to the movies, and end up having a real conversation.

Author's Note: This is a little rough. I wanted to post it before I went back to school. Sorry that the point of view shifts around a bit. Also, be warned that this has no plot whatsoever, just a long conversation between Chuck and Sarah.

Disclaimer: _Chuck _is not mine!

* * *

The sound of the doorbell ringing startled Chuck slightly. He wasn't expecting any company – Ellie and Awesome were working, Morgan and Anna were out on a date, and he was pretty sure Sarah or Casey would have called first if something bad had happened in the spy world. Reluctantly, he paused his game of Rock Band and answered the door, only to find Sarah on the other side.

"Hi!" She said brightly.

"Hi, Sarah. Uh . . . what's up?" he replied, ushering her inside.

"Oh, nothing important. I was just bored, and since you mentioned that you'd be alone tonight, too, I thought you might want to hang out."

"'Hang out?' Really?" he asked, but his smile grew as he realized that this night would be spent with Sarah his friend instead of Sarah his handler. No CIA bugs, no bad guys, no explosions. Just the two of them. "I'd like that. What'd you have in mind?"

"I was thinking maybe a movie?"

"Great, let me shut off my X-Box and leave Ellie a note and we can get out of here."

The smile she flashed him in return was enough to make him forget the emotional rollercoaster they'd been riding for the past few months.

* * *

"No, I don't want to see an action movie. I deal with that stuff enough."

"Well, not all of us carry knives in ankle holsters, okay? And the fight scenes are supposed to be great!"

"I want to see something calm."

"Like a drama? I don't want to cry."

"You cry at movies?"

"If they're sad! Wait a minute, you don't?"

"Of course I cry. Just not very often."

"Okay, how often it not very often?"

"Are you asking me how many movies I've cried at?"

"Yes, I am."

She stared him down. They'd been standing in front of the marquee at the theater for the past fifteen minutes trying to decide on a movie. In line at one point, they'd been forced to leave and stand beside it while arguing.

As Sarah was thinking about Chuck's question, a man who had been standing close to them in line said loudly to his date, "Geeze, it must be their first date after the wedding!"

Sarah's eyes narrowed, and Chuck had seen that look enough to know that if he didn't do something quickly, what followed would not be good. Before she could turn to fully face the man, he held her back as best as he could, and babbled, "A comedy then! I think I'm sort of in the mood for a comedy, because who doesn't love a laugh once in a while, right? And Sarah, I think you could use one, too! Come on, let's go, the end of the line."

He dragged her to the back of the line, where they stood side by side, Sarah with her arms crossed, shifting from foot to foot to get a better look at the offending man, who was a few people in front of them. Chuck eyed her nervously, hoping she wouldn't do anything rash, but she seemed to calm down as they moved ahead in the line.

When the man had safely bought his tickets and fled from their sight, Chuck adjusted his baseball cap and asked, "Well?"

"Well, what?"

He paused before turning to look her in the eyes, "How many movies have made you cry?"

She didn't respond right away, and neither was sure how much time passed before they were called back to the present by the teller asking rather angrily, "May I help the next customer please?"

Sarah watched him as he jumped ahead to buy two tickets. He grinned as he animatedly talked to the woman who was selling tickets. Surprisingly, she brightened up noticeably, even smiling and telling Chuck to enjoy the movie. Anyone who could cheer up a woman working in public service was a worthwhile guy.

"Ready?"

She nodded, and felt daring enough to wrap an arm around his waist. In the lobby, he ducked into the bathroom while she went to buy snacks. When he came out, she was sipping out of a large Coke with two straws. They began walking toward the theater, and she handed him the popcorn and a box of Milk Duds.

He stopped, stunned at the gesture.

"You remembered?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course I did," she replied, turning around. "But if we miss the movie because you're stuck to that piece of the floor, then I might conveniently forget next time."

She laughed a little, and reached out her free hand. He stuck the box of candy on top of the popcorn, and took her offered hand, which she proceeded to swing between them like they were teenagers.

"Next time," he murmured to himself.

* * *

They were laughing as they walked out of the movie theater, something they didn't do frequently enough. Chuck's arm was flung across Sarah's back, and hers was tucked around his waist. To passersby, they were just another young couple in a burgeoning relationship.

"Thank you, Chuck," Sarah gasped between laughs, "I haven't been to see a movie in a theater in years."

"Yeah? I'm glad you had fun. Even if you did almost get us in a fight before we got inside." He grinned at her, and they burst out laughing again.

"I totally could have taken him!"

"I know you could have. Especially with those knives you've got wrapped around your ankle."

"Or maybe I would have let you protect me!"

"Oh, because I'm sure _that_ would have worked out well."

Their laughter subsided as they wound their way back to Chuck's car. Chuck looked down at his Converse All-Stars, watched and heard them_slap, slap, slap_ on the pavement beneath him.

Sarah looked at him sideways. He was contemplative, and she wanted to know what he was thinking about. So she nudged him a bit. "Hey."

He turned to her nervously, "Hey."

She looked him in the eyes.

He cleared his throat and looked down again. "Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"Real life."

They stopped walking. She shifted to face him; he smiled sheepishly at the sidewalk.

"When you join the agency, they teach you to reevaluate things. You make catching bad guys more important than spending time with your family. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed what I'd left behind until I rediscovered it." While she was speaking, Chuck's eyes had slowly drifted back to her face. When their gazes finally met, she whispered, "Until you helped me rediscover it."

"And what's so bad about being normal?"

She sighed, unsure of how much to tell him. She desperately needed to confide someone, and he was the one she trusted the most. But he was also still a civilian, for the most part, and what he had seen on their jobs was only a fraction of the danger in the world. "Even simple concerns are distracting. An agent's concentration is essential to the completion of a mission. If an agent – if I get too emotionally involved, I will be pulled from this operation." She hoped he would hear the words she left unspoken: _And I'll never get to see you again._

Disgruntled, he slid his arm off her shoulders and continued down the sidewalk. "And this? Here with me? Am I a distraction?"

As both seemed to realize that the conversation was spinning out of control, they were silent until they reached the car, walking on opposite sides of the walk and looking in different directions. While he unlocked the car and opened the passenger side door for Sarah, Chuck regretted the turn the evening had taken. Just a few minutes prior, they'd been laughing easily, like old friends. She was about to get in the car, but changed her mind and turned abruptly, startling him.

Their proximity only served to increase the tension from the previous few minutes. His hand on the top of the car door brushed her shoulder, sending a tiny spark through her.

Sarah forced herself to take a deep breath before looking Chuck in his eyes and asking, "Do you remember what I said to you on our first date?"

He tried to inject some levity into the situation. "That you weren't a cannibal?"

She smiled. "No, that I liked you."

He said nothing, just stuck his hands in his pockets, closing himself off from her.

"Do you remember?" she pressed, reaching to push up the bill of his baseball cap to get a better look at his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember." He finally responded with downcast eyes.

"I meant it, Chuck," she emphasized, placing her hand on his forearm and keeping it there until he raised his eyes. "I'm sorry I can't tell you everything about myself, that I can't even tell you a lot, but that doesn't mean what I do tell you isn't true. I omit things, I can't tell you certain things, but I don't intentionally tell you outright lies. Okay?"

"Unless it's for my own protection, right?" His lips curled slightly upward.

"Right," she agreed.

He nodded, and her hand on his arm suddenly felt intensely personal. She jumped back a bit, and slid into the car. He shut the door, circled the car to hop into the driver's seat, and started the ignition.

Before pulling out of the parking space, though, he looked in her general direction and said quietly, "Thank you."

She asked, her voice equally soft, "Want to know something?"

They carefully avoided the other's gaze, but they wore matching smiles.

"Something real?" he asked as he turned at an intersection.

"Yeah, something real."

"Yeah."

"It's my birthday tomorrow."

* * *

"Chuck, why are we at the Large Mart?"

"Relax, I know it's our competition, but it's open 24 hours, so it's pretty much our only option," Chuck said as he pulled into a parking space. "Just don't tell Big Mike, okay?"

Sarah nodded, and moved to open the door, but he made a noise that she took to mean to not move. "What?" she asked.

"You, stay in the car. Heh, I like getting to say that." He imitated Casey, "Stay in the car!"

Before she could object, he had hopped out and was on his way to the store. She only had to wait about ten minutes before he was back with a bag clutched in his hand. Before she could sneak a peek at it, he stashed it beneath his seat.

"Where are we going?" she queried.

"You'll see."


	2. Stars

Sarah was thankful that the moonlight filtering through the trees allowed only limited sight. Her spy senses were going haywire, saying she shouldn't be in a deserted park this late at night, but she ignored them. She was glad that Chuck couldn't see the blush imbuing her cheeks as he pulled her along to a picnic table that lay just beyond the trail winding through the trees. She giggled as he picked up their speed.

"Come on," he urged with a grin, the bag from Large Mart swinging dangerously in his free hand. "It's almost midnight!"

When they reached the picnic table, they collapsed onto opposite benches. Sarah could hardly catch her breath she was laughing so hard.

"All right, all right, all right," Chuck choked out between gasps. "Only four minutes 'til midnight. 'Til your birthday!" He pulled something out of the plastic bag next to him and placed it with a flourish on the table between them.

"Chuck! A birthday cake?" She laughed at the icing that was now slathered over the plastic lid. "I appreciate the effort."

"Well, half of what used to be recognizable as a birthday cake," he conceded while removing the lid, revealing that the damage was even more extensive than originally thought.

"Still, impressive."

"That I can purchase a three dollar cake at the Large Mart?" he asked distractedly, his tongue sticking slightly out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on opening what appeared to be a very tricky package of candles.

"Yes, very." She smiled as he continued to struggle, but decided she didn't like that she couldn't see his face clearly. So she reached across the table, steering clear of the exposed cake, to pilfer his baseball hat. He made little objection, as he was too engrossed in his victory over the candle package. There, she liked it much better now that his eyes reflected the moonlight. She stuck the cap backwards on her head, fitting it snuggly over her ears.

"Need some help with those?" she asked as he placed the candles on the mound of cake.

"Nah, I got them. Sorry, though, I should have bought two packs. You're older than twelve. And we need one to grow on! Always one to grow on!"

She replied with mock seriousness, "I'm not sure you could have handled two."

"Ooh, burn. Considering this is the only birthday celebration you're getting, don't you think you should refrain from insulting me at least until I light the candles?"

"I promise to stop insulting you _completely_, if only you get the match lit."

He laughed, but stopped almost immediately as the sleeve of his jacket began to smoke while lighting the candles.

"Speaking of burning: ouch! Ouch! OUCH!"

He jumped off the bench and away from the paltry flames, and Sarah patted his forearm to assure that the smoke was just that – smoke, and no actual flames.

"Relax, you're not on fire." Indicating the half-lit candles, she continued, "And maybe I should finish lighting those."

He calmed enough to sit back down and watch Sarah demonstrate the proper way of lighting birthday candles.

"See, you start from the inside, so your arm doesn't hang over the already-burning candles while you light the inside ones."

"I think I will never ever forget that. Okay, so make a wish before we accidentally set the park on fire and Smokey the Bear comes after us."

She giggled again. Was that twice in ten minutes? She hadn't giggled since sixth grade. Where had that come from? She gave in to the giggle and breathed in, preparing to extinguish all dozen candles in the first try.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Chuck yelled, alarming Sarah.

"What, what is it?"

"You've gotta make a wish!" His wide grin lit up the night for her.

She matched his smile. "Okay," She agreed, then surprised him by closing her eyes.

He was silent for a minute or so as she thought. With her eyes closed and such a peaceful expression on her face and the moonlight glinting off her hair, he found her mesmerizingly beautiful. When he finally spoke, his voice was husky, but much softer than it had been mere moments ago, "Did you make a birthday wish?"

She opened her eyes to find him staring at her with an unreadable look on his face. "Yeah, I made one," she told him softly.

"Good."

As she blew out all twelve candles, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He clapped lightly as the sweet-smelling smoke enveloped them, and quickly grabbed a box of plastic forks from off the bench next to him before proffering the box to Sarah.

She took one out of the box and chuckled, "You bought 120 forks?"

"Well, it's Large Mart. Everything is economy size. And we could always use them for Ellie and Awesome's next party."

"They do seem to have a lot of parties."

"They're just party people."

"And you're not?"

"Not really."

"Neither am I."

"I've noticed."

They listened to the crickets chirping lazily, and ate the cake straight from the container.

"So, can I ask you how old you are?" Chuck finally asked.

"28." She punctuated the syllables by puncturing the icing with her fork.

"Whoa, no need to get violent," he teased her, then backtracked, "Wait, 28? Really?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You're older than I am. I just didn't realize," he answered through a mouthful of cake.

She smirked, "Oh, yes, because you're so much more mature, Charles Bartowski."

"Hey," he challenged, "I see you try out the video games in the Buy More when you think no one's looking."

"Okay, you caught me!" She held her hands up in mock surrender.

"Which begs the question: why do you refuse to play video games at my house? I mean, now you really have no excuse to not play Rock Band. In fact, we should have a Rock Band party tomorrow. Well, today, I guess."

"What about Morgan?"

"What about him?"

"He'll abuse me if I screw up!"

"What? You can like, disintegrate him with your eyes! Why would you worry about him?"

She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet. "Because he's your best friend, and I don't want to embarrass you."

He mulled over her response before saying, "If I talk to him beforehand, will you play?"

"Sure," she smiled, "I'll play. But no one can know it's my birthday."

"Done."

They were silent again.

More of the cake disappeared before Chuck spoke.

"But people will start wondering soon, you know. About your birthday. If you stay long enough and never have one."

She couldn't meet his eyes. She looked at the cake, at the trees, at the stars, at anything but him.

Realizing she wasn't in the mood for a discussion on the subject, he took a deep breath. "How long do you think this will last? I mean, what will happen to me . . . when I become obsolete?" He could have kicked himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. To move from one depressing topic to an even more depressing one on a person's birthday was just plain idiotic. "I'm sorry," he added. "Let's talk about something . . . happier."

"No, no, it's okay, Chuck," she said quietly. "Maybe we can feed you more information the same way you got the original intersect. Because you are an asset in the field."

He chuckled a bit incredulously at that, but she chose to let it pass.

She continued, "Or maybe we can find someone else like Dr. Zarnov, who can extract the information from your brain. I . . . I just don't know. I'm sorry."

Well, how many times had he screwed up tonight? Their interactions were so volatile, so unpredictable. He liked being able to make her laugh, but he wanted to keep her laughing, too, not make her miserable. He cleared his throat uneasily, and dug his fork fiercely into the rapidly disappearing mound of cake.

She regarded him sadly for a moment, then whispered, "I cry when I watch _The Sound of Music_."

* * *

"Wow," he breathed out as he leaned back on the top of the picnic table. The position furnished an unobstructed view of the clear nighttime sky. 

"Yeah," she agreed quietly, "I can't believe we finished that whole cake!"

He chuckled. "Well, half a cake. But I was actually talking about the view."

"Heh, I would laugh, but my stomach might split at the seams."

If this were a normal date, they'd be snuggled up comfortably against one another. As it were, their shoulders were barely touching. Sensible that this night should not go beyond that, Sarah crossed her arms to fight the urge to take his hand.

"Hey, look, there's Orion." He pointed to a cluster of bright stars.

"Yeah, I see. I like that constellation; it's one of the few I can recognize."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, could tell he was smiling because his teeth were shining in the moonlight.

"And that one, over there," he pointed to a different patch of sky, "is Taurus."

She craned her neck to see it.

"See the horns? That's Zeus in the form of a bull. And then right next to it are the Pleiades, the Seven Sisters, the daughters of Atlas."

"Atlas who holds up the world?"

"Yep. Only six of the stars are visible to the naked eye. The seventh sister, Celaeno, was struck by lightning."

She turned her head toward him, "How do you know so much about mythology?"

"I confess, I went through a stage in my childhood."

"And Morgan?"

"Oh, yeah. Morgan, too! It's easy to go from mythology to comics and superheroes, though. I think I was about 11 when I realized that Hercules and Superman were pretty much the same character – their main asset was their superhuman human strength. But Superman's kind of the nicer guy."

She studied him for a few seconds, then asked, "And stars? How do you know so much about them? Are you a regular stargazer?"

"Me? No, but I am a Skywalker."

Covering her eyes with a palm, she groaned. "That was awful, Chuck! You're supposed to be the funny one."

"I know, I know! But I couldn't pass up that golden opportunity!"

* * *

The silence grew around them once more. She could feel a light breeze tickling her face, hear it sweep through the trees surrounding them. Closing her eyes, she sighed, and felt as if her breath became merely another small part of the giant wind. 

Turning her head, she opened her eyes to look at Chuck and a rare thought popped into her mind: children. She never even considered having children before. She joined the agency too young. She hadn't had a steady boyfriend before that, so there was no need to seriously contemplate motherhood. But looking at Chuck, with his dark brown curls that frame his face matted from wearing his baseball cap for most of the night, she decided that she wanted her children to inherit those curls.

"Do you want children, Chuck?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He took a deep breath, still staring at the stars. "Uh, not really, no."

He said it like he'd been asked that too many times in the past. She wondered if he and Jill had thought about it at all.

"No?"

"No."

The answer surprised her. Of all the guys she knew, which, granted, was not many right now, he was the one most capable of handling fatherhood. "Why not?" she inquired, conscious that she there was a definite chance she was overstepping her boundaries.

He breathed out slowly. "Because I'm 27 years old and I still work a dead-end job at the local electronics store. My life's going nowhere, and I have no clue how to get out of it." A pause. "I don't want my kids to see me like that." A second pause. "To be ashamed of me."

Sarah stared at him with disbelieving eyes, too shocked to know how to tackle that subject. She assumed that his healthy relationship with Ellie would make him more trustworthy and open to having a family of his own someday, but maybe he had already been too damaged by his experiences with his own parents. "Chuck," she finally choked out, "you don't have to have a million-dollar career to be a great father. Family's about _love_, and you are the most loving person I know. You're also caring, generous, patient, smart –"

"Sarah –"

"No! You need to hear this! Because you are entirely _wrong_, and I have no idea how to convince you that you are entirely wrong, but trust me, you are. I don't know if this is about your own parents –"

"No, it's not. I'd never leave my own children," he protested quietly.

"I wasn't suggesting that, but my point is that you would be a perfect dad. And your children would be proud of you because they'd know what a great person you are. Not because of your job."

"Yeah?" he asked with a scowl. "And what about the kids who'll tease them when they bring me in for that Parent Career day thing?"

"Then your kids will just beat those other kids up." Once again, the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. She cringed a bit at the suggestion that his kids would be hers also. When did she stop thinking before she spoke? Since when did Chuck Bartowski have that effect on her?

He chuckled, ran a hand over his eyes. "And what about you?"

She sighed, "What about me?"

"You asked the question. Now you have to answer it."

Taking a deep breath, she responded, "Yeah, I think I do." She looked at him from the corner of her eye before continuing, "But I also think I'll need a lot of help with the whole parenting thing."

* * *

"Do you know what I want more than anything right now, Sarah?" 

He had turned on his side so that he was facing her instead of the stars. She turned her face to look at him better. The scant moonlight was enough to illuminate his features, and she could still see his sincere eyes. But she was thankful that it wasn't day. In the daytime, she'd be in danger of drowning in those eyes. Her gaze ran over his nose. She liked his nose, especially how it crinkled when he smiled. She looked down at his mouth, then lifted a hand, but froze, her breath caught in her chest.

"I think I do," she finally whispered.

"You do?"

"Yeah." Hesitantly, she reached out her thumb and traced his lips.

He closed his eyes involuntarily as she touched the corner of his mouth, then opened them to take her in her expression as he asked, "How?"

She exhaled. "Because I want it, too." She cursed the unsteadiness in her voice.

As if on cue, she withdrew her trembling hand, and he turned back to gaze at the stars.


End file.
